Into the Fire

Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God

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Passionate: right or wrong. Writes love stories with a passion. Raw Romantic Redemptive

  • Saturday Sample

    (For His Glory continued . . . )

    Hutch picked up his equipment and walked out to his truck. It felt good to do some work. As he was about to get in, a man introduced himself by the name of Brady York.
    “Look, my shoer stayed down south this year. I just talked to Pete Keppler and he said to give you a try. I’ve got a barn full all near ready or overdue. You got time to shoe a few for me?”
    “All the time in the world, Mr. York.”
    “Call me Brady, and follow me.”
    “Call me ‘Hutch’, and lead the way.”
    By the time Hutch was done at Brady York’s barn, he had shod 10 head all with his new pads. He dreaded going back to his motel and determined he would find an apartment or a small house to rent in the next few days. Maybe Nelson would know of some place. Another night to stare at the ceiling and toss and turn. For a moment he felt the tears threaten his eyes so he drove out the front gate taking time to introduce himself to the late afternoon guard before he left.
    It wasn’t evening but he saw no reason not to eat dinner. Since he was sweaty from working, he spotted a hamburger joint and drove up to the window placing his order for a double bacon cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a giant size coke. He drove to his motel to clean up, eat, watch some TV and turn in early. The fatigue nagged him. He’d driven nearly all the way across the country as quickly as he could with as few stops as he could safely manage. The three hour time difference was just starting to catch up with him, and since he hadn’t worked in a week, his body objected to the 11 head he’d demanded of it today. Maybe now he could finally sleep. Tomorrow would be another full day. He’d have plenty to shoe in both of his new barns. Plus he had to find time to meet some of the other shoers, check out where the best place was to get supplies, and he knew if these new pads caught on like it looked like they were going to, he’d better call in his order to be shipped to him right away. He’d brought a lot with him, but at this rate, he didn’t have enough to last even a month.

  • More thoughts on . . . Christmas in October

    You know me: I could go on and on about books to read. Novels which would make great gifts for so many diverse reasons . . . in abundance. So let’s keep going with more novels to consider for gifts this Christmas or anytime—for others or oneself.

    Lovely language, vivid metaphors and imagery reign in Dogwood by Chris Fabry. It’s no secret I didn’t particularly care for this novel’s ending, but the story was written so beautifully and was so meaningful, it’s definitely worth the read.

    For those who prefer novels which lean toward horror, Mike Dellosso’s The Hunted and his most recent novel Scream will fill the bill. Also, Travis Thrasher’s Ghostwriter is quite good, and his Isolation is dark, but I failed to like his protagonists in this story.

    For good action, voice, and plot in a first effort, try fireman Shawn O’Grady’s Through the Fire.

    If you prefer Southern fiction, Eva Marie Everson’s Things Left Unspoken takes a realistic and thoughtful look at an imperfect marriage and the secrets of families. Mary E. DeMuth tackles the first two books in her Defiance Texas Trilogy set in a small town with troubled people and the unsolved crime of a little girl’s murder. Read them in order: Daisy Chain and A Slow Burn.

    You really can’t go wrong by reading a Harry Kraus, MD, novel because of his unique and quite clever voice, the way he handles or alludes to romance, and his interesting storylines which center on the medical field. Perfect is one of his most recent novels for those readers who like a snappy heroine about to abandon all she knows to be “perfect”.

    Okay, here’s my final recommendation for now. And it’s once again shameful or shameless—take your pick—self promotion. The Famous One chronicles the life of one Joey Parr who grows up without much ambition, a fair amount of confusion, and virtually no boundaries in his life. His desire is for love and a family which sticks together—unlike his own. He is discovered by a director and becomes an actor and a reluctant celebrity, all the while searching for “the one”. The Famous One gives readers a clear picture of what it’s like to be lost, the journey to being “found”, and the realization of purpose. Sometimes raw, always real, it could be given to believers or unbelievers. Not for the “prairie romance” crowd.

    Most of these recommended novels can be found reviewed on this blog.

    Hope this helps your ideas for meaningful gifts this Christmas.

    Lord God, may I write for your glory, for your pleasure, for your purpose. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Continuing Christmas in October . . .

    Christmas gifts. Not an easy subject to discuss—at least not in October. However, the wonder of Christmas doesn’t depend on shopping and buying, glitz or gaud, snowflakes or sunshine. It depends on Jesus. Totally on Jesus: “The Reason for the Season”. I don’t know where you’re at as far as celebrating the beauty of the birth of our Savior with giving gifts, but, for me, giving a gift at Christmastime is a grand way to say “I love you, and so does Jesus.” The needless gifts have been whittled down or out—you know the ones you have to give. No. Those gifts shouldn’t be a part of this celebration.

    So with those thoughts in mind, thinking about the possibility of giving a book for Christmas means you might find the opportunity for the novel to speak of the One who made this celebration real. Those who don’t believe in the reality of Jesus Christ but who are not militant in their anti-God status might be moved to read a specially selected story which gives them a hint of what God is like and who Jesus really is often through a peripheral character as in some of the novels I listed for you yesterday. Non-invasive, yet the truth is there if they want to address it or pursue it. Or not. The stories from yesterday really can be given to unbelievers if those folks don’t qualify as militant atheists.

    Moving right along then . . .

    You know as a general rule I can’t recommend historical novels because I rarely read them, but I will say the two novels in the Allie Fortune Series by Sara Mills (Miss Fortune and Miss Match) capture the flavor and noir of the late 40s PI novels with the intriguing twist of making a female private investigator as the protagonist. And it works. Very well. These are quick reads, mysteries with imaginative storylines and a hint of romance, much of it unrequited.

    In keeping with the historical theme, The Shape of Mercy by Susan Meissner, ECPA Novel of the Year, combines the history of the Salem witch trials with a contemporary story and presents a finely crafted book with an unobtrusive spiritual undercurrent and layered themes—which is Susan’s specialty. This is a gender neutral novel but favors women.

    How about those readers who like real suspense in a good murder mystery but aren’t quite into the hardcore stuff? Brandilyn Collins wrote two recently released novels which take unexpected twists and turns and ratchet up the level of suspense all along the way. Dark Pursuit and Exposure will keep the readers guessing while realistically infusing faith elements into the story.

    More again tomorrow . . .

    Father, please bless your writers. Supply them with stories and go before them to make their paths straight. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Christmas in October

    Oh stop the gasping! And the indignant scornful expressions. C’mon, settle down. After all we’re talking books here. Yes: as gifts. But it isn’t too soon to be pondering giving novels as Christmas gifts. Well it isn’t.

    Most people know someone in the friends or family category who read. We’ll not be addressing those unimaginative or intellectual non-fiction readers. Huh-uh. Not here.

    No, we’ll be making suggestions for those who love to either escape, be entertained, or experience the profound execution of evangelism within a well-written story. Ha! I know: who’s to say what’s “well-written” and what’s not? Well, me, of course. So there.

    Let’s get started.

    For those readers who prefer wisecracking first person lawyer-types venturing into the mystery/suspense genre, you simply must purchase James Scott Bell’s Tyler Buchanan Series. It’s just too good not to get someone new addicted to the trio of stories known as (in order) Try Dying, Try Darkness, and Try Fear. These novels can be gifts for the believer and unbeliever. The protagonist is not a believer, but the subtle influence of the love of God via a priest and a spunky nun give a reader the opportunity to consider God-issues. This is a terrific series and will make a great gift either individually or as a set.

    Stunning writing and an amazing rendition of spiritual warfare and creation staged in such a way that this novel can be given to a believer or an unbeliever, I cannot leave out Demon . . . a memoir by Tosca Lee. For those who’ve pondered the Fall of Man, I can also recommend Tosca’s Havah, The Story of Eve. For me, it was a painful read, but some readers prefer it over Demon. (I do not.) However, both novels deserve much praise for excellent writing and reasonable and profound interpretations of high spiritual concepts.

    Exquisite writing, a memoir-ish tale of an unlikely love story, The Passion of Mary-Margaret by Lisa Samson ranks high on my admittedly long list of favorite novels. If you have Catholics on your list of readers, this is an especially important and beautiful novel, but it would probably work for those unbelievers who are open to an amazing story which involves a real look at the grit and filth of life right along with the love for Jesus.

    Without a doubt for those men who read thrillers, you can’t go wrong with any of Robert Liparulo’s books: Comes A Horseman, Germ, Deadfall, and its follow-up Deadlock. Women love these books, too, but if you’re looking for novels which will definitely appeal to men, these will all work. For those readers who are CSI-types, give them the Patrick Bower Series by Steven James starting with The Pawn followed by The Rook and The Knight. Creepy villains and an interesting Special Agent FBI protagonist.

    To be continued . . .

    Father, thank you for these gifted writers. May they all stay focused on what you have for them. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Fall

    Shock of orange, intercepted by brilliant pink
    I stare. Awed.
    Sunsets painted with clouds, lines of color from the palette of God.

    The air smells cool.
    Crisp intakes chill the nose.
    Refreshing.

    Darkness follows and ends the day.
    Moon shines, taking position.
    Order prevails.

    Melancholy hovers.
    End and beginning in place.
    Season

    Father, your beauty is truly indescribable, but we labor and attempt our darkened efforts, knowing one day the image of the true beauty will be clear. We do our best to remember that. To press forward. To listen to your lovely voice. To do as you ask. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Saturday on Monday . . . just because

    [On Saturday I reviewed Terri Blackstock’s Intervention, an intense story of a mother’s determination to rescue her daughter from drug addiction. This well done novel deserves attention. Please read the review and read the book.

    So here’s the continuation of For His Glory normally appearing on the Saturday Sample page. Back to regular programming tomorrow. 😉 ]

    “Hey, name’s Grady Hutchinson. Know anyone who needs a good shoer?” Hutch extended his hand to the veterinarian outside his truck.
    “Pete Keppler, Grady. You look familiar. You ever shoe in the Midwest or upstate New York?”
    “Well, both places, actually. I’m sorry, you don’t look familiar to me. And my friends call me ‘Hutch’.”
    “I think somebody pointed you out to me once is why I remember you. We’ve never met or anything. If I remember right, it was Ernestine Palmer in upstate New York. Said you were the best shoer around, bar none.”
    “Wow. Small world. Ernie was a client of mine for several years. She’d even fly me in to shoe for her when I left the area. Great gal.”
    “Yeah. Lots of money. Were you sleepin’ with her?”
    Hutch stammered a little. “Uh, no. Purely professional.”
    Pete laughed. “I didn’t know you could be ‘purely’ anything with Ernie.”
    Hutch smiled. “Well, it wasn’t easy.”
    “Yeah, she had me in no time flat. We were hot for awhile. She dumped me just as fast as she took up with me, too,” he chuckled. “But it was a good ride for awhile. Anyway, I’ll tell you who you might check with is Mick Webster over in Barn 17. He always wants to be in on the latest in everything. This would be a perfect time, too, because his shoer is in and out right now. He’ll probably use both of you guys, but it’s a good place to start. Pay’s good, too.”
    “Well, thank you, Pete. I owe you one.”
    “I’ll let you buy me a beer sometime if you get the job.”
    “Fair enough. I’ll see you around then.”
    Hutch got back in his royal blue custom painted Ford F250 4×4 pickup with a matching custom canopy and drove the short distance to Barn 17.
    “Hi,” he said, introducing himself to the foreman. “Is Mick around?”
    “He’ll be back in a few minutes. Can I help you?”
    “Well, I know you folks have a shoer, but I thought maybe I could be of some assistance. If you need references, Pete Keppler can vouch for my reputation. I worked mostly back east and in the Midwest. I’m up on all the latest shoes and methods. Don’t like to be behind on anything that’ll help a horse.”
    Mick Webster’s foreman Nelson Scarston was a pretty good judge of character and a man of few words—his reputation spoke for itself. He’d earned it, and he figured a reputation was pretty much all you had at the track. Most people’s weren’t so good, so for Nelson a good reputation said it all.
    “You got names?”
    “Benny Hilyard, Richard Jamison, Cedric Halls, Jeffrey Karston, Libby Sensten—”
    “Whoa, not bad. What’re you doin’ out here, for cryin’ out loud?”
    “The truth?”
    “Preferably.”
    “Divorce.”
    “Messy?”
    “I don’t know how messy. Just not what I had in mind when I got married, you know what I mean?”
    “Yeah, I do. Been divorced myself. Wife said I was married to these horses. Turns out she was right. Married to a racetrack woman?”
    “Yeah.”
    “She shoulda known. Don’t blame yourself.”
    Just then Mick walked up.
    “Mick, Grady Hutchinson. Highly recommended horseshoer from back east. Knows all the latest shoes and techniques. Needs a job.”
    Mick extended his hand. “Mick Webster. That right? Well, I’m sure Nelson told you we have a shoer, but we have a full barn and definitely have a few problem feet. Yeah, well, if you’ve got time, let’s put him to work on The Senator. He’s due, and he’s got the worst feet in the barn. If you can help him, you’re hired, but I’ll probably keep Bob, too.”
    “I’m not trying to undermine your guy. Somebody said you might need a second shoer and that you wanted to keep up on all the latest stuff, and that’s what I do, so, yeah, I definitely have time. Bring him out.”
    Nelson and Hutch formed an instant rapport. They knew a lot of the same people even though Nelson had been out west for several years. Hutch got him caught up on all the current information about people he hadn’t seen for years. Most of the stories were typical. So and so was sleepin’ with so and so. So and so divorced so and so and married so and so. So and so got caught sleepin’ with so and so and caused so and so to get a divorce. So and so was suspended for using some kind of illegal drugs on his horses. So and so was into so and so for so many thousands of dollars. Etc., etc.
    “So, how long you been divorced?” Nelson asked.
    “I signed the papers before I left. Whenever.”
    “Well, technically, you don’t know when or even if you’ll be divorced. She could backpedal.”
    “Not her.”
    Nelson paused and then asked, “So who’d you sleep with?”
    “I didn’t sleep with her,” he replied, tapping a nail into the foot he was shoeing with sharp, abrupt moves of his hammer.
    “Hard time convincing the wife of that? Musta had somethin’ goin’ on then.”
    “Not on my part. She was a client. She kept calling me at home. Wanted me at her barn all the time. I doubt if you knew her—she’s just been around in the last couple years. Came out of the show crowd. Name’s Marilyn Chambers.”
    “Nope. Never heard of her.”
    “She was some kind of wealthy. Had all the looks to go with it. The other trainers were tryin’ to take up with her—heck, there wasn’t a guy on the backstretch or in the office, for that matter, that didn’t want to get it on with Mare. I have no idea why she elected to give me a run, but she made no bones about it. I guess it was the fact that she wanted the best for her horses, and she wasn’t afraid to try the latest thing. Made my life very difficult in the end. To tell you the truth, I didn’t see it comin’. You know what it’s like around the track. Everybody always tryin’ to get it on with someone else. Some people couldn’t care less who’s married and who’s not. I thought my wife understood I didn’t want anything to go on with this woman, but I think Marilyn musta been settin’ her up because I had an appointment to shoe one for her on an off day in the afternoon. She’d given her help the afternoon off, and she was the only one at the barn when I got there. She told me to come down to her office because she wanted to write me out a check when I was done. So I put away my tools and walked down there. I opened the door and she’s standing there in her underwear leaving next to nothing to the imagination.
    “I froze. I wanted to run, but I just froze. She says to me, ‘Here’s your check, and I’d like to give you a little bonus for all your expert work.’ Man, my feet were like cement. So she walks over to me and puts her arms around my neck with the check in her hand. I finally started to wake up and reached up to remove her hands and push her away when my wife pokes her head in the door. I look over, see it’s her and can’t get out of there fast enough. She won’t even turn around when I call her. She wouldn’t even let me talk to her for two days, and then she wouldn’t believe me when I told her the truth. And that was pretty much it. Five years down the tubes.”
    “Over one woman? C’mon, there’s gotta be more.”
    “When we got together, I had a reputation for being a ladies’ man. She knew that. But she hooked me. I mean, when we got serious, she was the only one I wanted. Still is. But I blew it. I didn’t know how to reassure her. You know, I probably wanted Marilyn’s attention. I know I didn’t want her, but she fed my ego because all the other men were droolin’ over her, and she wanted me. Told me I was the best she’d ever seen, and the fact was she’d worked with the best in the field. So it was a lot my fault. I guess I didn’t get how much it was hurtin’ my wife, and I didn’t really give her any solid reason to trust me.”
    Hutch stood up. “Walk him off, Nelson.”
    The Senator walked off with no hesitation.
    “Hey, Hutch. He’s never walked off without a few gingerly steps after being shod. Never. I’ll tell Mick. His feet look great. What kind of pad is that?”
    “Brand new material I bought just before I came out here. We’ll let The Senator be our guinea pig, okay, big boy?” Hutch patted the horse’s neck. “Anything else for me today?”
    “Not today, Hutch. But I guarantee I’ll have some for you at 10 o’clock tomorrow morning. Alright?”
    “Great. I’ll be here. Nelson, thanks for listenin’,” Hutch said a little sheepishly, reaching out to shake Nelson’s hand.
    “Hey, I been where you are now. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

  • Sunday’s Offerings

    . . .

    “In repentance and rest is your salvation,
    in quietness and trust is your strength,
    but you would have none of it. . . . “

    Isaiah 30:15 (NIV)

  • The last hope of . . . Intervention

    Terri Blackstock wrote Intervention with firsthand knowledge of the agony of living with an addict. It’s a form of hell on earth. In Intervention the pain, the rage, the sorrow, the sense of absolute loss and the inability to do anything to make things change for the better writhes on each page. The tension is at full tilt every step of the way, and I must commend Terri for capturing the intensity, frustration, brokenness, and the crippling need to make decisions with little or no information.

    Barbara Covington’s daughter Emily is only 18 years old, but she’s a professional drug abuser. Addicted to a few different drugs of choice, she blames her mother and God for the pain of losing her dad to cancer. Her suffering came wrapped in the angst and sorrow of a teenager with few coping skills and the false evaluation of her mother’s sense of loss. She failed to see how her mom strained to hold herself together in order to show strength in their family’s crumbling world after the death of this father and husband.

    Already busted for a DUI and becoming an accomplished thief, Emily associates with “friends” who jeer at the phrase “hitting bottom” and know how to work the rehab system.

    Barbara plans her last hope for her daughter and stages an intervention through an agency she prays will hold the key to her daughter’s lasting healing and sobriety. Knowing the substantial risk of investing the huge sum of money and having Emily refuse to accompany the woman back to treatment, Barbara feels she has no options left. Her 14 year old son hopes this time his sister who has abandoned their previous closeness following their dad’s death will agree to go and finally get well.

    After throwing a hateful and resentful fit, Emily decides to accompany the woman to a place outside of Atlanta, and they leave the airport. Emily carries only $10 and no cell phone. Barbara receives one phone call via the interventionist’s cell, and then hears no more from either of them. She panics when she can’t get in touch with them and soon learns the interventionist has been murdered in her car at the airport with video of Emily fleeing the vehicle, assumed to be the murderer, and catching a ride in a black Infiniti.

    Barbara and her son Lance fly to Atlanta, talk to police, insist Emily is not a murderer, and set out on their own to find her. Detective Kent Harlan can’t decide whether to admire the woman or to be angry with her for meddling in their investigation and putting herself in danger.

    I found one too-convenient flaw in the novel toward the end involving an unlocked car door. Although it’s not impossible that it could’ve happened, it’s difficult for me to imagine even in panic mode that this kind of mistake might be made under the circumstances. Other than that, the suspense, the tension, the frustration, and the fear element are well written and believable. Terri wrote from the heart on this one, and it came across 100% authentic.

    Compassion with realism combines to make this a touching, intense, hard-fought story about those who love addicts and are determined to see them whole. The faith element is steady and honest. The main character loves the Lord, flounders briefly, but keeps her faith in spite of the odds against her. A worthy read.

    http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/031025065X

    Father, thank you for Terri’s story, for her many novels, her passion for telling tales. This one demonstrates your faithfulness in a special way, and I pray you would bless Terri and her daughter for having the courage to share the experience of “hitting bottom” and having you lift them up. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Friday Five

    I doubt I could make a Top Five list of novels. It would have to be at least a Top Twenty. Same with songs.

    My computer is going crazy this evening. Not fun for a non-techie. At all.

    Not only that, but the DVR went bizarro, too. No doubt it’s a conspiracy.

    You realize I’m stretching this to get five of anything tonight.

    Normally, I post on the very first day of a new CFBA Blog Tour, but I didn’t get the next book up until yesterday, and the tour starts tomorrow. I’m fast, but I didn’t have enough time. I’ll try to get it up for Saturday.

    See ya.

    Jesus, help me. Always.

  • Dining at . . . Bo’s Cafe

    You might remember Windblown Media as the small publisher who hit gold when they collaborated to produce the little novel that made it big: The Shack by William Paul Young. Brad Cummings, President (and Publisher), and Wayne Jacobsen, Publisher, head up Windblown Media now under the umbrella of Hachette Book Group. If you’d like to read more about them, visit their website or go here: http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/publishing_windblown-media.aspx.

    Bo’s Café by John Lynch, Bill Thrall, and Bruce McNicol is the first novel to follow Windblown Media’s production of The Shack. And as their self-defined purpose declares, this book, like The Shack, is written with the “spiritually hungry” in mind. And similar to its predecessor, the story is pretty much one long conversation with an agenda—-not long in the sense of word count in that my guess is this story tops out at 70,000 words max but probably closer to 60,000.

    Steve Kerner works, lives, and occupies the fast lane in life. His job is cutthroat, and he’s near to the top in his thirty-something years—-the proverbial “has it all” kind of guy who fights with his wife, forgets to pick up his daughter at school, and either hates or fears his coworkers. When he stops off at a greasy bar in an area where he grew up, a stranger starts a conversation with him as he sulks at the bar. Not wanting to be bothered by the man he perceives as an aging hippie, he’s finally drawn into a conversation he doesn’t want to have when he learns the man was a friend of his father. When the man spouts off too much information about Steven’s failing personal life, Steven takes a ride with the man known as Andy in his mint condition 1970 Buick Electra convertible.

    When an argument with his wife gets out of control, Steven is banished to the Marriott Hotel. As he reluctantly continues to discuss his life with his strange new acquaintance, Andy takes him to Bo’s Café where Steven is introduced to people who get in his face without threatening him. The colorful café consists of a melting pot of characters who’ve been in the spiritual and emotional state Steven is just now facing and come out victoriously on the other side. They’re unafraid to tell him their stories in spite of his guarded façade and unwillingness to get real with them.

    Andy demonstrates his love for the younger man by waiting until Steven contacts him. His ability to dissect Steven’s misguided perceptions and refusals to address his deepest fears and problems conjure up the symbolism of the Holy Spirit’s role in our lives as we stumble around in our inept sinful ways finding excuses and blaming others for our faults and failures.

    In keeping with their self-proclaimed agenda, Windblown Media presents another novel about a journey back to God from an estranged wayfarer. This long discussion takes place over a period of months when the two men and the peripheral friends meet at Bo’s Café to eat both “Mr. Bo’s” delicious meals and to consume the spiritual food for starving souls.

    From the technical standpoint, and not to denigrate Paul Young in any way because his success is inarguable, this little novel is written more skillfully. It breaks the rules, as did The Shack, with its agenda-driven conversation being the sole reason for the story’s existence. To its credit the conversation is good, the asides real, and its concepts are far less controversial than those of the other little book.

    Who are the readers for this short novel? Well . . . if you know someone with anger issues and a reluctance to admit any fault with himself, this is a good starting point. If you know someone who’s spaced himself away from God and who perceives Him in a bash-you-over-the-head kind of way, this novel is all about forgiveness and grace.

    Mick Silva, editor at Waterbrook Press and who is given credit in the Acknowledgements, claims the “spiritually interested” audience is largely untapped, demonstrated by the huge success of The Shack. Mick’s hopeful formula: “Man and God and Jesus and world all together in one book? That’s a middle ground. Nothing removed for the extremists and separatists in either camp.” Bo’s Café fits in this group.

    Father, please bless these men who desire to honor you with their writing. Keep them honest, keep them real, keep them serving you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.